


We Caught the Stars

by chalametsberm



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chalametsberm/pseuds/chalametsberm
Summary: A reimagining of my favorite line "we had caught the stars, you and I."





	1. Chapter 1

Elio appreciated that his mother had let him stew in his sadness. Well, he actually wasn’t sure if he did or not. It was the only thing he had that made his relationship with Oliver feel real at all. If Oliver hadn’t left his shirt behind, and hadn’t left such an impact on seemingly everyone in B., he might have thought he dreamed it all. Luckily, with it being winter, staying inside and dragging feet around the house was not frowned upon. Mafalda occasionally tutted at him, but was mostly glad he wasn’t going out and staying out at all hours of the night.

“Non essere spericolato” don’t be reckless, she would say, and “stai attento”, be safe.

Every time the phone rang, something inside Elio panicked. Would it be Oliver again? To call and say that he realized his mistake? Or even worse, call and say he thought the best place to have his wedding was in B.? The phone rang, but it was never Oliver. It was scholars and teachers for his father and neighbors and friends calling on his mother. Oliver had called once, for a short phone call, and that was that. Elio knew that this was perfectly in character, but that didn’t make it feel any better.

Time went on, as it always does, but it did not feel like it did to Elio. Eventually, it was already time to go back to school from winter break. Watching the hours turn into days and turn into the two-week break was exhausting, but it finally passed. He would go back to normal, he didn’t have to be surrounded by all the little things about B. that reminded him of Oliver so clearly. Too clearly for anyone’s liking. It would make him think about the time that he had wished Oliver dead that day he came back late from fishing with Anchise. Then, being followed around by the ghost of him would make some sense. But no, he was out there, in New York, with a fiancé, a bride to be, not haunting their villa. In their villa, Oliver’s ghost and presence was in every wind chill that clattered the windows outside of his old bedroom and in the smell of every cup of coffee that Mafalda made late in the afternoon.

The wake-up call came, literally via a phone call. Elio had just gotten back to the states and was not at all used to the time difference. He woke up angry, thinking he would really chew out whoever had the audacity to call this early. His anger was halted when he looked at the clock and realized it was nearing 2pm. He coughed to rid himself of his inevitable morning voice and to clear his lungs of 13 hours of plane air. After waiting too many rings to meander to his phone, he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Elio?”

He hadn’t heard this voice in a while. The last time he heard it, it was telling him that he should be expecting a save the date soon. He couldn’t think of anything to say back, there was too much to say so instead, he responded with barely veiled spite.

“How do you have this number?”

He could practically see Oliver’s face as he chuckled like he expected this would be his reaction. Goddamn him for knowing exactly where his head was.

“Your dad, duh!”

“Oh, of course- how are you?”

Elio thought that maybe if he asked Oliver how he was it didn’t have to come back to him. To his moping and grieving of something they had and lost. His question didn’t come off as casual at all. But then again, nothing about their relationship really ever had been casual.

“I’ve been busy with school, and I’m sure you have too.”

“Mmhm.”

Elio got up and started pacing the small kitchen of his school apartment. In the time it took him to walk back and forth twice, neither of them had broken the silence. Elio finally coughed and started talking.

“Why-“

“She broke it off.”

“What?”

Elio knew what, or what he hoped he knew, but he needed to hear him say it out loud. If he didn’t say it out loud, it was just some dream.

“Please don’t make me say it.”

Then Elio was back in B., back in Rome. This was the Oliver of his dreams that said “you’ll kill me if you stop”, this was the Oliver that was so glad they had slept together after Elio chased Oliver up to B. the morning after. This was not the Oliver that would leave without a glance back, but a nuanced and calculated “later!”. This Oliver meant that he would see you later.

Elio’s pacing sped up. He looked up at the ceiling, then around the kitchen, and then his eye caught something hanging out of his suitcase. Billowy. A corner of the shirt didn’t make it fully inside his luggage. His utter panic made him forget all rules of telephone conversations.

“Hold on-“

“What? Hold on for what-“

Elio didn’t know what Oliver was saying, he slammed the receiver down on the tiny linoleum kitchen table and ran to his stuffed to the brim suitcase. He yanked open the suitcase and brought out the shirt. He fluffed it out and breathed a huge sigh of relief when he discovered the only damage it had acquired in the trip across the ocean was a crease in the left sleeve where it had been hanging out. Taking a deep whiff in, he remembered that he was on the phone with Oliver, or rather he was supposed to be.

“Are you okay?”

Elio didn’t know what to ask. He didn’t know if he should be happy, or sad, or just complacent. Just because he wasn’t marrying this woman didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to find someone else to fill her shoes. Elio knew about his parents, and how they felt about Oliver’s future and where it should go. There was one point that he hoped that he would get an invite to the wedding, just to turn it down, but that was a vain hope.

Then, with one more sniff of the shirt, uncontrollably, his own name slipped out of his mouth, “Elio, Elio, are you there?” Silence. Silence, but no dial tone. That empty space was full of hope.

Then, it came, “Oliver. Can I see you?”

Elio screamed into Billowy. It was happening. He wasn’t sure what, but something was going to happen, and he was more than ready.

“Yes, please.”

That simple phrase brought him back to when Oliver first asked if he could kiss him. Like he could ever say no. Like he would ever say no now.

“I can take the train to you, I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t slam the door in my face.”

Elio almost laughed out loud at this thought. The insanity that Oliver would ever not be a welcome sight towering in his door frame was unbelievable. He didn’t laugh, though. It was all setting in, he was going to see Oliver again. An un-engaged, newly single Oliver. What if he wasn’t single? What if he had broken it off months ago and he was just now getting around to telling him? Maybe the reason he hadn’t called Elio while he was in B. was to avoid the long-distance charge. What if he saw Elio again and then went running back to his now ex-fiancé?

“I have class in the morning.”

“Oh, I mean, I can-“

“Come in the afternoon. I’ll give you my address.”

Elio rambled off his address before he could comprehend what exactly he was doing. Oliver was going to be in his tiny apartment, taking up space at his kitchen table that he was doing nervous dances around and then what?

Going to class the next morning was an unbelievable burden on Elio’s psyche. He had already read the book they were discussing in Comparative Lit III, but he always felt he had to one up the girl that sat in the front row. Jessica. Elio at first thought that he might find a kindred spirit in her when the semester started, but quickly realized his mistake. Jessica turned her nose up at poetry and anything romantic. When he asked her about philosophers, she stared blankly back at him, giving him time to think about a time when he would have a discussion lasting for hours about small details.

He was doodling Oliver’s name in his notes when all of a sudden, he heard someone say his name. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the interconnectedness of their names and their beings. He looked up and everyone in the class was looking at him. Jessica was still talking.

“Well, Elio, you’re Mr. Poetry all the time, you must have something to say about this.”

Elio wanted to tell her to fuck off, wanted to ask her if she was in a relationship with their professor like everyone imagined her to be, but he held his tongue. He started talking about the particular poem in enough detail to get everyone to turn around, everyone but Jessica. She was still staring at him. When someone else started talking, and once it was clear that the attention was off Elio, her gaze turned sympathetic. Elio didn’t know what the hell was going on.

Finally, it was over. Three hours of torture, and he was ready to go home. He had packed his stuff into his backpack at the two-and-a-half-hour mark, not caring to pay attention to the glare from the teacher’s assistant for making so much noise. At 12 on the dot, he got up out of his seat and started heading out.

“Elio, wait!”

It was Jessica. What could she possibly want? Could she not bother anyone else? He considered pretending not to hear her, but that would just bite him in the ass in the long run. Jessica was annoying, but she was smart and a good ally to have. He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He didn’t make any moves to walk towards her, he wanted her to know that she was being at least a little bit of an inconvenience. She was striding so quickly toward him that he didn’t even think she noticed that he was firmly cemented in place.

“What.”

“Are you ok? No offense, but you’re usually a lot more annoying in this class, and you barely talked at all.”

“I just have a lot on my mind, ok?”

“Oh, okay, yeah, sure.”

“Listen, Jessica, I have to go.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Jess-“ Jessica was talking to the swinging doors, Elio was already far gone. In his stress to get to class and not think about the coming events, he totally forgot to clean his apartment at all.

Luckily, he hadn’t had time to mess anything up, but he did have Oliver’s shirt out and pretty much that was it. When he raced around the corner and starting sprinting up the stairs of his walk up, he saw the figure he hadn’t seen in months. He took a moment in the shadows to catch his breath. What was he supposed to do when he saw him? Do you hug someone that you’re in love with when they have just broken up with their fiancé? There wasn’t exactly a greeting card for that kind of situation. Elio would just have to play it by ear. Oliver turned at the sound of footsteps, and went from a serious expression, to a wide, tooth baring smile, back to more toned down in a matter of seconds.

Like he didn’t expect that Elio would show up, like he couldn’t believe that the other existed on multiple continents, in places outside of the villa. “Elio. Hi.”


	2. Chapter 2

There he was. Just standing in Elio’s doorway. Acting like this was no big deal. Elio didn’t know what to do. He was so thrown off by the causality of it all that he went in for a hug. Elio, with his arms open wide, realized, almost in slow motion that maybe this isn’t what Oliver wanted. 

This fear was quickly remedied when he found himself wrapped in Oliver’s arms again, a feeling that he was surprised he was ever able to forget. Without thinking, Elio took a deep breath in, trying to take in everything that was Oliver. He heard chuckling and looked up, confused. 

“You gonna let me in or what?”

Right. Elio forgot that they were not inside his apartment, but rather living a lifetime in a moment. That moment just happened to be outside of his small studio apartment. 

“Hang on.” 

Elio cursed himself for not having his keys out of his backpack ready beforehand. He rifled through the backpack that had once held Oliver’s manuscript the time they went to B. and then Monet’s Berm. He wondered if Oliver recognized it. Or how much Oliver let himself remember. Elio was still working on trying to forget some things. 

Finally, he found the keys and let them both in. Oliver, of course, saw his shirt immediately. 

“Oh?”

Elio figured there was no reason to lie. It was clearly the only thing he had taken out of his luggage.

“I saw that it was hanging out while we were on the phone. I needed to make sure it didn’t get ruined on the plane.” 

“I can’t believe that you let that happen to my shirt!” 

Oliver was mocking him. This was something they used to do, but it felt worse today. Something about it felt off. It felt like he was trying too hard to go back to what they were like. When they were together? Elio wondered if that was how Oliver thought about them. 

Elio didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if there was anything for him to say. So he said what he thought he should say, followed by an abrupt question that was killing him. 

“I’m sorry that she called it off. When did she call it off?”

“Two months ago.”

Two months. Oliver had been not engaged to this woman for two months and he had just now called him. Two months of silence and then, finally he reached out. Elio threw his arms up and scratched the back of his head. He needed time to think. He walked over to the bathroom. Turning around at the bathroom door, he looked at Oliver, sadness overwhelming what should have been anger. 

“Two months.”

“Elio, wait, I can explain.”

“Why are you here.”

“I wanted to call earlier.”

“You should have.”

Elio walked away from the door to the bathroom and started pacing the kitchen, just as he had done on the phone with Oliver before. Elio looked everywhere but at Oliver’s pleading eyes. Elio couldn’t possibly understand why he didn’t call. If it was Elio in Oliver’s shoes he would have called in a heartbeat. But they were different. Elio would have never gotten into that situation. 

“I needed to talk to you in person, to explain myself. I had to wait until you were in New York.”

“We’re talking now, what do you want to say?”

Elio had never been this bold with his anger with Oliver. Oliver looked at Elio like he had been slapped but took a breath and kept going nonetheless. 

“Do you ever think that what we had was once in a lifetime? We had found the stars, you and I.”

“Bullshit.”

“What-”

“Don’t give me that in past tense. I am right here. We are together now. Once in a lifetime doesn’t mean that this can’t be happening again. Unless it means you don’t want it to.”

Elio felt something building up inside him, a confession that he never dared to speak when they were in Italy, but now that he already had an outburst, it seemed like it didn’t matter anymore. 

“Elio-”

“I loved you then, and I love you now. Oliver, I worship you, you know that. Not just that. I am IN LOVE with you. We can still have the stars.”

Oliver didn’t reply right away. Elio knew that he blew it. The biggest confession of his life and he didn’t feel relieved at all. No weight was taken off of his shoulders. The silence was making the air heavy. It must have been hours before Oliver looked like he was going to speak again. 

“It’s not that easy, Elio.”

“It could be.”

Elio knew he sounded precocious. He didn’t care. He didn’t even need Oliver to say it back. He just wanted to be with Oliver, for at least the time that he was going to be at his apartment, breaking the wall between the past and the now. Without thinking, he lept into Oliver’s arms, and it was the first night again. It was midnight again with the nerves and the unmistakable desire. Oliver didn’t move. 

Elio started kissing every single part of his face, clinging onto Oliver like a lifeline. Elio felt something wet on Oliver’s face. He was crying. Oliver was crying and he was probably the one that made him cry. Elio backed off of him for a second. He was stunned, he didn’t know what to do. 

“Please kiss me.” 

Elio had never heard Oliver speak so softly before. He looked scared, like that request would be met with spite, like it ever could be. Elio took the step in between them and raised himself on his toes to kiss him. 

They kissed in the kitchen for a while, slow tension building up, Elio kicked off his shoes and the cold linoleum floor was a contrast to his body quickly heating up. Elio didn’t know how far Oliver would allow this to go, so he savored every moment. 

Oliver lifted Elio up like it was the easiest and most natural thing in the world. Elio was his puppet. Elio loved the way that Oliver could just take control in a second. 

Breaking off a kiss, Oliver asked, “bedroom?”

It must have been a joke, Elio laughed. In his studio apartment, it was literally impossible to miss the bedroom, since that was basically the only room. Oliver laid Elio on the bed with the care of a nurse moving a patient from the gurney to a hospital bed. That made Elio mad. He grabbed for Oliver, pulling at his shirt to bring him down to the same level. 

Clothes were making Elio angry. The fact that there was any distance between them at all made him want to scream. He started pawing at Oliver’s shirt until he got the message. Oliver started taking off his pants, then his underwear, and then he was naked. For the first time in five months, Oliver was naked in front of Elio. Elio couldn’t believe it. He was frozen in place, until he felt a gentle tug at his shirt and remembered that this wasn’t a dream. 

Elio ripped off his shirt and pants and underwear, and finally, they were together again. Nothing to hide. Elio no longer had any secrets from Oliver, everything was out in the open. Oliver rolled over to lay on top of Elio. Their feet interlocked and Elio let out a sinful moan. Elio blushed, he hated his transparency sometimes, but was too caught in the moment to do anything about it. 

They kissed more and more until neither one could handle not going further. 

“Elio, Elio, Elio” 

Elio tried to bring back what was once theirs, and theirs alone. It worked. 

“Oliver.”

“Elio, fuck me.”

Oliver’s entire body shook at hearing that, and then, slowly after awkwardly going through a bedside drawer and getting Elio ready, began to rock in and out. Elio’s gasps were enough to send both over the edge. 

Laying there, neither of them knew what to say. There was so much, but no words for it. Finally, Elio decided to break the silence. 

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

They both started to get dressed, and Elio threw Oliver Billowy. When Oliver gave him a confused look, Elio quickly explained. 

“It doesn’t smell enough like you anymore. I don’t know when I’m going to see you next.”

Oliver laughed, but put it on anyways. In response, he gave Elio his shirt, repeating what Elio said to him. They put on their coats and started heading out, Elio didn’t know if they were ever going to talk about it, but for now, he was happy to be in Oliver’s company.


	3. Chapter 3

Walking out of Elio’s apartment in each other’s clothes felt right. Elio felt safe in Oliver’s shirt, and took great comfort in seeing Oliver in Billowy again. Oliver told Elio that he didn’t care what they ate, as long as it would satiate his appetite. 

“Oh?” 

Oliver shoved him, “such a young mind, so corrupted, a shame, really.” 

Elio lead them into a diner two blocks down, it felt like a mirror of Oliver eating Italian food with Elio. Oliver seemed surprised. 

“A diner? Really?”

“I wanted breakfast food.” Elio telling Oliver he wanted breakfast food was much easier a task than telling Oliver he wanted to bottle up every moment they had together and keep it forever. They sat down at a booth, across from each other, and the waitress came over and took their orders. 

Oliver ordered an egg white omelette, and Elio ordered the pancake special. As they waited for their food to come, Oliver started to look serious. Elio mirrored his expression, feeling like The Talk was coming. Elio searched for reasons to put it off, to delay it at all. 

“We should talk, Elio.”

“Can we talk later?” Elio looked down, ashamed. “I don’t want to ruin the small amount of time it will take to eat this.” 

Oliver looked up and saw Elio, looking more vulnerable than ever, staring at his hands. He reached over and put his hand on top of Elio’s, covering it completely. “Ok. But we will need to talk.”

“I know.” Elio’s voice was barely a whisper. 

The waitress came over, breaking the tension with a southern drawl that was both hard to believe and charming at the same time. “Here you go, y’all! Enjoy! And give me a holler if something don’t taste just like it should.” She patted Elio on the head. 

“Oh?” It was Oliver’s turn to be confused. 

“It’s not my first time here.” Elio tried to sound casual. All it took was a raise of the eyebrow from Oliver and he caved. “So, I come here quite a lot.” 

“Why?” Oliver didn’t understand why someone with such a refined palette would spend their money and time eating diner food. Then, he saw the line cook. It was like looking in a mirror. If he was behind that counter too, they would be standing at the same height, same build and same face shape. 

“Well, Elio, it seems you have a type.” Elio’s eyes got wide. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

“You don’t come here to ogle the cook, do you?”

Elio’s silence was more than enough information for Oliver. Oliver would have gotten angry, but Elio’s embarrassment was enough for him to just laugh at it all. 

They finished their food, chatting about nothing, and thinking about what was to come. 

“Wanna come back to mine?” 

Oliver fanned himself, “Elio, are you trying to seduce me?”

Elio rolled his eyes. Oliver loved teasing him like this. Elio just started walking, not checking behind him to see if Oliver was following or not. When they got to his door, he once again had to fumble around in his backpack for his keys. 

Oliver, through laughs, said, “I really thought you would have learned your lesson by now.” 

When Elio finally got the keys and opened the door, they could both hear that his phone was ringing. Elio dropped his backpack to pace over and pick it up. 

“Hello?”

Oliver walked over to him and sat on the bed, politely waiting for whoever it was to hurry up and finish their call. 

“Marzia?” At this, Oliver sat up straighter. Why was Marzia calling Elio? He didn’t even think about the fact that they still could be involved. Oliver put his head in his hands and sighed. The sound made Elio turn around and face him, putting up a finger to suggest that this call wouldn’t last too long. 

“Mhm” “Yeah” “Okay” “Yes, I’ll talk to you later.” “Ciao.” 

Oliver seethed at how vague and one sided their conversation was. What could they possibly be talking about? 

Elio hung up the phone and walked over to the bed. “Marzia was having ‘boy troubles’”. Elio used air quotes, but in his tone it was clear that he was trying to be a good friend. 

Oliver still wanted to clear the air. “So you and Marzia…?”

Elio just shook his head. No, they were not together, they were just friends. 

“Oliver…-”

“I’m in love with you too, Elio.” Oliver spoke in a rush, like he was afraid that if the words didn’t come out fast, they wouldn’t come out at all. 

Elio didn’t look happy, he looked sad. “Don’t say that because of me. Don’t say that and then leave, I couldn’t stand it.”

“I’m not going anywhere.- If you’ll have me, that is.” 

Elio nodded, and a tear fell from his eye. Oliver reached instinctivally to brush it off his face. Elio grabbed his hand and held it close, kissing every finger gently. 

“We did it.”

“What did we do, Elio?” Oliver was looking at Elio like he was the only person in the world, ethereal, even. 

“We caught the stars.”

Oliver thought about this, and nodded, “I guess we did Elio, I guess we did.”


End file.
